As human works have gradually come to cover the vast spaces where the world was asleep, to the point that the very idea of virgin nature now belongs to the myth of Eden (there are no more islands), peopling the deserts, sub-dividing the beaches, and even erasing the sky with flights of planes, leaving untouched only those regions where it so happens that man cannot live, likewise, and simultaneously, the feeling for history has gradually covered the feeling for nature in the hearts of men…
And all this through an impulse so powerful & irresistible that the day can be foreseen when silent natural creation will have yielded altogether to human creation, hideous & flashing, resounding with revolutionary & warlike clamours, humming with factories and trains, at last definitive & triumphant in the course of history - having completed its task on this earth, which was perhaps to prove that everything grandiose & staggering it could accomplish throughout thousands of years was not worth the fleeting scent of the wild rose, the olive grove, the beloved dog…
Notebook V: September 1945 - April 1948
We are all unhappy. Our country has paved the way for our angers & our quarrels. Each of us lives behind an impenetrable wall, despising all others. Our only real enemies are the priests, the crown, the police, hiding their faces & exciting us one against another.
… all this mire to become a man and not a machine for hatching hatred… The only things I love are art, children, and death.
a Russian poet, who gave voice to the idealism which would motivate the October Revolution, only to grow disillusioned with the subsequent injustices committed in the Revolution’s name.
stanza 47, “sayings of the high one”
had a great time with PF Flyers and Sir and Madame shooting photos for their pop-up in Hyde Park, Chicago. I’m a huge fan of vintage posters so the back wall was one of my favorite set-ups. make sure to check out the entire recap, here.
Little bay before Tenès, at the foot of the chains of mountains. Perfect half-circle. As evening falls, a ripeness full of anguish hangs over the silent waters.
Then one realizes that if the Greeks formed the idea of despair & tragedy, they always did so through beauty & its oppressive quality. It’s a tragedy that culminates. Whereas the modern mind based its despair on ugliness & mediocrity.
For the Greeks, beauty is a point of departure. For [the modern], it’s an end, rarely achieved. I am not modern.
Notebook VI: April 1948 - March 1951